Afterwards
by I am Best
Summary: The Campania assignment could have gone better.


The office was quiet, as it often was when Grell wasn't around. The problem was that Grell _was_ there. The eternal, greyish sort of daylight pooled on empty desks and lingered at the edges of shadows cast by darkened lamps and unoccupied chairs. She pulled out her pocket watch. It read 10:53.

She held it to her ear and was met with silence. Then she smelled it. Sea salt and rust. The Campania.

"Why are you smelling your watch?"

Grell spun around. Ronald was sitting at his desk, the door to their shared office open. "Ronald! My watch broke. What time is it?"

"After six. Everyone else has gone home, or out to the field."

"Dammit." So much for coming in at a reasonable time. Grell pocketed her watch and sat at her desk. She flicked on the lamp, which dissipated some of the gloom that had accumulated. "Why are you still here? I'm sure there are better places to be than work after hours."

"Just. Uh." He shrugged, eyes wandering evasively. He had papers on his desk, but they were all completed - Grell could see that with just a glance.

She dragged her chair closer.

"Ronald? Are you okay?"

Ronald looked lost without a grin on his face, or a look of exasperation (usually directed at her). He wasn't even frowning, like he couldn't muster up that much care. He looked off into the corner of the room instead of at Grell. "Do you like me?"

"Of course I do," she said immediately. "You're my favourite junior."

Had she done something to upset him, to make him think she didn't? Grell hadn't been in recently, shunted between buildings and meetings explaining again and again about the deserter and his dolls and the scar from his scythe across her belly because upper management refused to believe they'd fucked up that badly. It wasn't even her mess, and it did put her out of sorts, but Ronald had to know it had nothing to do with him. After his initial report corroborated hers, she made sure he didn't have to go through all that as well.

"You don't think I'm a liability as your partner?"

Grell leaned forward and caught Ronald's hands. "No! Did someone say that? Tell me their name, and I'll deal with it." She grinned, and Ronald managed a small, far less feral one, in return. Grell probably wouldn't actually attack someone. Probably.

"It was me."

"Eh?"

"When we were giving our reports." He pulled his hands free and gestured vaguely. "You could have handled that deserter if I wasn't there. Even with that Bassy of yours. I just got in the way."

"That is not at all true, Mr Knox, though I'm flattered you think I could have won. It's wrong, but I'm flattered. And you went toe-to-toe with a _demon_. Not many reapers can say they've done that."

Ronald gave a sharp laugh. "I caught him off guard. Gave him a paper cut. You almost gutted him the first time you fought him. Even Mr Spears hurt him more than I did. I talk a good game, but I can't actually do anything."

"That's not true," she repeated more fervently. Ronald was cocky, yes, but she never thought it was false bravado. He was just young, and he _had_ done well. Where had these notions come from? "You did better than most in that sort of situation, and we both did the best we could. So don't worry about it."

"A man killed hundreds of people, profaned life itself, and escaped to do it again. All because I messed up and couldn't keep a demon distracted. And you want me to not worry about it?"

Grell leaned back at his vehemence, eyes wide. Despite her immediate (and yes, somewhat hypocritical) revulsion, she'd moved on easily once the battle was over. It wasn't anything personal. Shit happened.

"Well, yeah. There's naught to be done about it now, you didn't do anything wrong, and the only people who messed up are the higher-ups who let this happen in the first place. We've got an eternity to live, Ronnie, don't make it miserable for yourself." _Don't turn into Will_ , she continued in her head. If ever there was a prayer she'd give her wretched soul to be answered, that was it. They all had scars that ran deeper than Grell could see, and they hid them in their own ways, but Grell couldn't handle another unfeeling mask of a person.

"It's supposed to be miserable, Grell." _Please don't turn into Will. Please don't._ "But I don't want to be the one making it miserable for _you_. I was like that before, y'know. Before this. Making everyone else miserable. You've been gone, doing all these meetings and having everyone question you, whether you really did what you could or if you intentionally let him go. If you're _planning_ something. You tried to bring him in, and I messed it up. You don't deserve those rumours."

"Oh." She tried not to let her relief show. That was a very non-Will thing to say. It actually showed some care for her. "Is that what everyone's saying? Can't say I'm surprised."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

Grell shrugged. "I get why they think that. My record's not exactly sparkling, so everyone thinks I'm one bad day from just painting all these cubicles red. That had nothing to do with you, though. That's all my fault." Suddenly, she clapped her hands.

Ronald jumped at the sound like this was the prophesized bad day, and Grell quickly clarified.

"I fight demons and regulations and my boss sometimes. I ushered in a new age of horror that'll fascinate humanity for years to come. I've caused trouble after trouble for this branch. But you know what? Will, who knows me and what I'm capable of better than anyone else, thought you should be my keeper, and I agree."

"You think I could beat you in a fight?"

"God, no. There's not a reaper here who could stop me with violence. Not even Will, if I was really done with him." Grell gave a small laugh at the idea of that ever coming to pass before she shifted from her chair to the arm of Ronald's and gave him a half-hug. "But you don't use violence. You're nice to me. Not many people are."

Ronald reflexively hugged her back, though he still seemed off in his own world. "And that's gonna stop you from killing everyone one day?"

"Mmhm. I fuck up, you get in trouble. I don't want you in trouble. Besides, I had _fun_ on the Campania, so you're hardly making my life miserable."

"I guess," Ronald said, but he didn't sound convinced.

Grell frowned at the papers on Ronald's desk and adjusted her grip on him, pulling him closer. How many days had he been here after hours, by himself, running through the Campania incident over and over?

She had been a little cool about Ronald at first, when he was added to the department, and when his first assignment was with _Will_. But it was hard for anyone to ignore his easy grins and laidback attitude for long, especially when he moved into the desk beside her. Ronald was a little immature for her tastes, but Grell appreciated his friendship more than she expected, though they hadn't actually known each other for that long.

She let him go but for a hand on his arm. "You think on that, but not alone, okay? That's how they get you. They leave you alone." Ronald didn't have to ask who 'they' were. Nobody knew them, but everyone knew of them. The being or beings who crafted this half-world, these half-lives. He was right that this was supposed to be miserable, but Grell refused to let it be as bad as it could be. "I'll be right here."

Giving him some distance, Grell began to pick through the pile at her desk. She occasionally snuck glances at Ronald, who she caught sometimes looking back, but he said nothing else to her. She really wanted to assure him again that he'd done nothing wrong, and that he was doing a good job, but this was one of those times when silence was the best policy. He had to come to those conclusions on his own, so she bit her tongue and focused on the papers before her.

Eventually, Ronald stood and stretched. His eyes looked a little red as he leaned over to give Grell another hug. She pulled him tighter and nuzzled against him like a cat.

"You really did do great, Ronnie," she couldn't help but say before they broke apart. "Go tell some pretty girl how you fought a demon and a deserter on a doomed ship, all while keeping Jack the Ripper in line."

Ronald left with a wave and a promise to do just that, and Grell, since she was already there, finished up her paperwork. Will would be so proud.

She came home to a bouquet of mixed flowers - all red - on her kitchen table, and Ronald cooking in her apron. It was a useless, stripy thing that dripped red and black lace, and Ronald looked absolutely silly when he turned around and held a spoon up in greeting.

"What."

"Yo."

How he got in wasn't really in question, as Grell wasn't allowed a lock on her door anymore, but she did have to ask, "What are you doing here, Ronald?"

"You told me to go talk to a pretty girl, didn't you?" he said before turning around again to tend to the food.

Grell stared at the back of his head a moment, brows furrowed, then what he said caught up to her. She cackled as she got a vase for the flowers. They were already wilting from simply being in their realm, but she could clip their blooms and press them later. For now, they'd make a lovely centerpiece for their meal.

"But not about demons, or deserters, or a single damn, doomed ship. Okay?"

Grell knocked Ronald's shoulder lightly with her own as she came over to help him work. "Okay."


End file.
